On Tuesday, May 1st, a brilliant local woman started a blog called Ramblr. She thought it would be fun to try her hand at writing satirical journalism. She claimed she would write one article a day, so as not to burn herself out and quote unquote “abandon this project like I always do for every idea I have.” Her discarded TV spec scripts, still naively lingering in her tabs, were proof of that much.
This woman is not at fault, though. It is a common symptom of demon possession, and seeing as a little trickster god named Gilgamesh entered her when she was very young and wormed his way into the nooks and crannies of her wet garbage brain, vowing to aid her in her quest to perform really well in the arts but only if she was under a fixed, impending deadline, she has been cursed ever since.
And even now, this unfortunate soul, stricken by Gilgamesh’s unrelenting plague, strives to write more than a couple of meagre paragraphs, but to no avail. This project no longer excites her; it is not glitzy and novel like it once was, a toilsome eight days ago, and she has become disillusioned by the medium. The only true medium, she suspects, is that book she refuses to write because once she starts writing it she will inevitably abandon it forever.
Perhaps this weekend she will think of an amusing headline as she shoves her face further into her pillow at 1 am, vowing to remember it by morning, but it will be to no avail, as a shiny new idea– courtesy of Gilgamesh– will by then have wormed its way into her brain.